The Moulin Rouge, Sacre-Coeur, and the bohemian fever dream all come together to make this hub for artistry and wild nights. The undesirable land became a haven for the insane and creative. I find as the phrase goes, “art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.” Montmartre certainly has this.
The Musée de Montmartre, a beautiful building, held the halls of excellent artists of the bohemian era. Walking around Sacre-Coeur and Montmartre revealed the inspiration for the art within the museum.
Seeing this connection between what I saw and what the artist saw inspired something in me. I was swept up in a multitude of emotions. There was nostalgia for something I hadn’t seen before. What these artists saw, in a way, is how I was seeing Paris. Walking the streets of Montmartre, feeling the cobblestones, the smells, the sights, the sounds. I felt as if the art was an expression of what I was seeing.
Sacre-Coeur felt mystical, like seeing Jareth’s castle in the sweeping shot of Labyrinth. The Basilica stands tall at the top of this hill, with the might and wisdom of a building that appears much older than it is. There is something that sparks dark fantasy about the contrast of the lands below Sacre-Couer.